Revenge Is A Drink Best Served
by Cherian-osiris
Summary: Draco get's his revenge on Harry for the dinner party. Companion piece to Dealing Under the Table.


Draco eyed the papers spread across his desk. They were tired documents, all of them bordering on the vaguely insane, however. He eyed one note which had just arrived via owl. Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, another one of Pansy's sons was facing criminal charges, and Pansy, yet again, wanted his expert legal advice.

He flung the piece of parchment onto his desk and leaned back into his chair. He had many things he'd rather be doing right now: eating dinner out with Harry, reading the latest E. T. Ascomb magical mystery novel, and countless other things. However, Harry was at a late meeting with the PM, and Draco had misplaced the damn novel yesterday.

He pushed a hand through his famous blond hair, and tried to think of something to do. He was staring a whole into a deposition, when a face popped up into his fire place.

"Damn it, Granger! Do you have to do that?" Draco started and took a sip of the cold tea sitting on his desk.

"Sorry, Princess Draco," the head of St. Mungo's replied gaily. "I just thought you should know that you and Harry got Playwitch's 'couple of the year' award."

Draco set the cup down with a loud thunk, an expression of mass displeasure engraved on his face. "What?"

Hermione dropped a glossy magazine on to the hearth in front of her. Draco blew out a gust of air and accioed it into his hand.

"Page 93," Hermione said helpfully.

Draco flipped to the page in question and groaned at the spread before him. A picture of Harry and himself standing back to back dressed sharply in suits stared up at him. Photo Draco's eyebrow was nearly at his hairline, but his left hand was still clasped in Harry's right. Harry had that mysterious smile which had gotten him the award of sexiest politician from that muggle magazine "British Vogue" last year. Draco gritted his teeth. It seemed they would never be out of the public eye.

"Well, now that you've seen it, I'll be off." Hermione said awkwardly. Her former nemesis and chief-thrower of insults just waved a disinterested goodbye at her and continued to stare at the photo, seemingly deep in thought. It had reminded him that he still owed Harry for the little stunt that Harry had pulled last week at Madame Ekatarina's dinner party.

Draco rolled his eyes and threw the magazine into the fire. It exploded in a gush of purple and gold colored flame. Voices from the various portrait's screaming as they were incinerated. Draco made an irritated noise and left the room. He had plotting to do. Harry was not going to get away with his naughty little trick.

* * *

This was not going to be easy. Harry was probably the most magic-sensitive person he had come across. However, the politician had an incredible weakness when it came to potions. It still mystified Draco that Harry had managed to pass that class, even with the help of Snape's old text-book.

Draco was thankful for perhaps the first time in his life that Harry had opted to be in muggle government rather than magical. If Draco had started walking around the Ministry of Magic no doubt he would be earmarked at once and a thousand paper planes would go flying to Harry to tell him of his arrival. Muggles didn't do things like that. Granted the receptionist often cooed and giggled when he showed up to see Harry, but at least he wasn't announced with a giant fanfare of flying objects.

Katie, the receptionist, did her usual giggling routine as he stepped in through the doors of Number 10 Downing Street, and then made out a visitors badge for him. He could easily have used magic to get through without being noticed, but then Harry would be in a towering rage when he found out.

Waving goodbye absently to the annoying chit, Draco moved off through the long corridors, nodding at people who saw him whenever Harry was speaking with the PM and the imperious young Malfoy thought it a good idea to stop by. Granted the entire muggle world knew about Draco Malfoy, because he was life partners with Harry Potter, England's next rising star in the political arena. Gay politicians didn't exactly languish in the backwaters, especially with the young liberal crowd currently yowling about revolutionizing the government.

Draco didn't enjoy the fact that the public thought he lazed about on his arse all day with his piles of money instead of working. Malfoys were never ashamed to work, and they were never so gauche that they had nothing to do. However he could hardly come out and say he was a Lawyer, when he hadn't passed the Muggle bar.

Draco snuck into the room where tea was prepared, thankful that nobody was in the little kitchenette with him. He quickly had a steaming cup of oolong, Harry's favorite, prepared. Looking about himself suspiciously he poured a lesser known potion into the tea, adding a spell to make the taste undetectable. It was a genius piece of work, and it had only taken a few minutes to accomplish.

As an afterthought, he pulled out a sappy note he'd decided to write at the last minute and tried not to gag. He never did things like this. Well, the muggles would think it was darling.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," one of the interns said as she stepped into the room.

Draco was sure he'd never met her before. "Hello, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Mr. Malfoy," she replied, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

"Be a love and give this to Harry, will you?" He handed her the steaming cup of tea plus potion with the note sitting nicely on the saucer.

"Oh, you're so sweet, Mr. Malfoy. Of course I will." She took the glass and smiled up at the dashing dreamy man who MP Potter had been lucky enough to snag. She hurried out of the room, cup held close to her so that she wouldn't spill.

Draco chuckled evilly at the sight and leaned back against the counter behind him. Now all he had to do was wait.

* * *

The new intern, Melissa or Melina something, handed him a cup of coffee over his shoulder as he sat around the large oval table, the PM at its head. He looked at the cup in wonder, but still remembered his facilities enough to thank her. She giggled and blushed before scampering off through the door leaving Harry to blink after her. Harry knew just by looking at it that it was his favorite flavor of tea, so without thinking he tossed back a large swallow and then set the cup down so that he could take down a few notes.

As the meeting continued he took several more drinks from the cup barely noticing as it disappeared. He didn't have enough time to wonder where it came from, and their were no wizards who'd bother to poison him here.

During a lull in the conversation his aide pointed out the note, "Potter, what's that?"

"What's what?" Harry said single-mindedly going over census sheets.

The aide plucked the note off the cup. "This," he said as he waved the piece of parchment in Harry's face. Harry looked at it blankly for a minute before taking it. He could see the spidery thin handwriting through the paper and was almost certain it was Draco's own.

_Harry, _

_Just thought I should send you a little comfort during your long meeting. _

_Love you and see you at home, _

_Your Draco_

Harry knew instantly that something was up. Draco didn't send him love-notes or random cups of tea to comfort him through difficult work hours. After all, Draco's constant litany was that Slytherins were not sickeningly sweet like their Gryffindor counter-parts. Harry wasn't quite sure how Draco defined sickeningly sweet, but he had to be the only person who thought Gryffindors were it. Harry picked up the fine bone white china that his beloved tea had come in and tilted it in the light. Sure enough there was the faint iridescent residue of a potion.

"That bastard!" Harry muttered under his breath, setting the teacup down with an audible clunk.

"What?" Harry's aide asked him, thinking the curse was directed at him.

Harry over at him, "No, not you, Jerry."

"Well, what then?"

Harry shook his head and checked his watch. Thirty minutes from his first sip or thereabouts. Whatever Draco slipped him was going to start working soon. Harry could only hope he wasn't going to break into boils. He did think it was unlikely though. That punishment wouldn't exactly fit the crime of giving Draco an orgasm last week.

"Potter, what do you have to say?" The Minister of Education interrupted his thought process.

"Ah, right, of course." Harry stood up, and moved to the head of the table. His aide hooked up the slide projector to a laptop. After a few minutes of fiddling around, various graphs were displayed on the screen. "So according to these figures—" Harry broke off.

A vision of the first time he'd had sex with Draco was suddenly passing before his eyes. The Quidditch locker rooms after a practice, Harry pressing Draco sharply into the wall—all the sensations between them new and inviting, Draco's nails down his back, and the blond's breathy moans as his head fell back against a locker.

Harry blinked a few times as the vision passed and breathed out. "Sorry, so according to these figures . . ."

Harry was halfway through explaining the trends in a data-set when another image hit him. It was raining. Harry and Draco were wrestling in the mud, trying to do as much damage to the other as possible. Harry managed to pin Draco beneath him, their eyes and hips locking together at the same time, the heat between them being replaced by a heat of a different sort. They continued to roll about as they fucked roughly in the rain. The only tell-tale sign that it would become something more was their locked hands as Draco came.

"Potter, are you all right?"

Harry rubbed his forehead. Looked like he knew what this potion did. "Yes, yes I'm fine. Sorry, long day."

Harry continued to stumble through the presentation while visions of Draco flashed before his eyes almost continuously. Finally he stopped, unable to take it anymore. He was incredibly lucky they were in the dark as they viewed the graphs, otherwise the entire room would think he got stiffies over educational figures.

"Look, I'm sorry, I can't do this," Harry said, letting out a big breath. "I've got a splitting headache. My aide, Jerry, is more than capable of doing this with out me."

"Well, by all means Mr. Potter," the PM said, fortunately being very understanding if somewhat puzzled.

"Right, I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment, "I'll take my leave of you now."

Without really knowing what was going on the other ministers watched as Harry strode out of the room at a strong clip.

* * *

Harry stepped outside of 10 Downing Street and apparated instantly to his office. Another vision quickly overtook him as he appeared in the foyer. It was after their first big fight as a couple. They'd broken half the crockery in the manor during that scuffle, and then Draco had screwed him into the floor of the dining room. Harry still remembered Draco's gaze—his grey blue eyes begging Harry for everything to be okay.

Harry leaned back against the wall and groaned. This had to stop, or else he'd ruin his favorite trousers. Walking past various members of his staff, he marched into his office, completely unsurprised to find his lover sitting in his desk chair, feet propped up on the desk.

"Having fun, love?" Draco asked, his arms propped behind his head.

Harry was just about to reply when another one hit him. The shower. Their bodies slipping and sliding against each other, their mouths in a heated kiss, Harry tangled a hand in Draco's hair and wrenched his head back to attack his throat.

"What did you see?" Draco questioned when Harry came back to himself. He was clearly quite amused by Harry's state.

Harry glared at his life-mate and stomped over to his desk. He tugged the chair around and leaned over to kiss Draco thoroughly. He fucked the other man's mouth with his tongue while he trapped the blond between the arms he rested on either side of the chair. Draco moaned his approval into the kiss, lazily pulling back after a long moment.

"I should string you up from the ceiling," Harry growled at Draco, still comfortably inside Draco's personal space.

Draco made a noise. "Turn about is fair play."

"I did _not_ give you a hand-job while you were cross-examining a witness!"

"Touché!" Draco pushed Harry back so that he was leaning up against the desk and then pounced on him. "I take back what I said. I'm a Malfoy, I don't believe in fair."

Harry snorted before Draco sealed their lips together again. The blond then began to furiously unfasten Harry's tie and shirt buttons, pushing layers of clothing off of the black-haired man's shoulders.

"In a hurry?" Harry chuckled.

Draco growled. How was it that Harry could come storming into the office with a bloody great hard-on and now be so collected. That was Draco's job! But then, that was why Draco loved Harry so much. Nobody could make him come undone like his lover did.

"I love this suit on you," Draco said in reply as he pulled back to brush everything off of Harry's desk. The papers, pencils, and various other odds and ends fell to the floor with a crash, completely forgotten. He pushed Harry back onto the desk, pinning the darker man beneath his own body.

It was quite a sight: Harry's well-muscled torso exposed by his ripped white shirt, the emerald tie untied but still hanging about his neck. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils dilated by growing arousal behind the thin wire-framed glasses he always wore. Unlike the evil coke bottles of the past, these glasses made Harry look like the devilish politician he was. Draco ran hand down Harry's chest, fingers skimming one distended nipple and running over his tanned abdomen. Harry arched underneath him as he was hit by another vision.

"Oh, Merlin," Harry breathed out, his head still thrown back and his eyes closed. "What was in that potion?"

"I'm not telling," Draco stated. Allow Harry to catch him unawares in the same way? Not bloody likely. "An artist never reveals his secrets."

"Well, since you're not an artist—"

Draco glared and straddled the brunette sprawled across his own desk, grinding his hips down into Harry's. Draco enjoyed the way Harry's eyes rolled back into his head.

Harry moaned, "Draco, love, how do you make the visions stop?"

"Oh, it should wear off any minute now," Draco practically cackled. "In the meantime you are at my mercy."

He grabbed both of Harry's arms and restrained them on the desk. Harry twisted under him, but it was a token struggle. Harry could easily have thrown his lover off using either physical or magical means.

He kissed Harry again, but quickly moved on to tongue Harry's collarbone, sucking hard on the skin there. He wanted everybody to know who this politician belonged to.

"Fuck me, Draco."

Draco smirked down at his lover.

"No, I will not beg," Harry replied, anticipating Draco's request. Draco glared at the brunette for a minute before pulling himself up off of Harry to tug the fine wool trousers off his hips.

Draco was about to step out of his own pants, when Harry sat up and tugged him towards him. "No, now, like this."

Draco reached for his wand, but it was sitting in the inner lining of his suit jacket which was hanging on the coat stand in the corner of Harry's office. Harry laughed and reaching a hand down around the desk tugged a drawer open, and after fumbling about with the contents for a few minutes came up with a tube of lube. He presented it to Draco, who took it and squeezed a large amount into his palm. Carefully using two fingers he prepared Harry.

Harry turned his face into his arm to muffle his groans. Draco smiled at the depraved look of the love of his life.

"Draco," Harry finally gasped out. "Just do it, all ready. I'm not going to fucking break."

"A little tense, darling?" Draco mocked.

Harry rolled his eyes at his snarky boyfriend, but quickly lost all coherent thought as Draco pushed inside him in one quick thrust.

Draco paused at the incredible heat that suddenly enveloped him. He could already tell this would be a good one. A strangled sound emerged from Harry's mouth, and Draco guessed from the way his eyes moved behind his eyelids that he was being hit with another vision.

"Tell me what you see," breathed Draco, tweaking one of Harry's dusky nipples.

"At Hermione and Ron's wedding on the Yacht, when we snuck off—"

"And had sex in the engine room," Draco finished for him, rolling his hips upwards to meet Harry's downward thrusts. "Back then, I couldn't keep my hands off of you."

"Um, Draco, love," Harry moaned out as his blond lover slammed into his prostate, "are you sure anything has changed?"

Draco chuckled low in his throat and bent down to kiss the emerald-eyed man, all the while continuing to fuck him into the mahogany desk.

Harry's legs were bent practically down to his chest, and he was absently very glad that they exercised in this way quite frequently or God knows the contortion would have been beyond him.

Draco continued to rock into the other man, licking and sucking and biting any bare inch of skin he could get to. Harry responded with equal fervor, his hands tangling in Draco's immaculate hair and messing the blond locks up. Draco would get him for that later.

Draco marveled at the way this still felt good, new, fresh, even years later. Fucking Harry and being fucked by Harry was still one of the best experiences of his life. He felt Harry's wand hand slide between their bodies, stroking his own neglected cock. Ordinarily he would have slapped the questing palm away, and taken care of it himself. But today was still truly about getting revenge on Harry. Draco was still pretending that this was some semblance of punishment.

They were getting loud now, and Draco realized at Harry's indrawn hiss when he hit the other man's prostate on a particularly strong upstroke that they hadn't used a silencing charm.

"We have to be quiet," he murmured into Harry's shoulder. The other man only nodded, too far gone to respond. Draco was hitting his prostate now with every stroke and that sensation coupled with the friction on his cock from his own hand was driving him over the edge.

Harry's back arched and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he came, clamping his muscles down hard around Draco. His come coated their abdomens, but luckily did not get onto the shirt he was still wearing.

Draco continued to thrust into Harry, drawing out the pleasure of the other man's orgasm, before coming himself. Harry had to reach up and shove a hand into Draco's mouth to keep him from alerting Harry's staff.

After long moments where they stayed locked into position, Harry's hand still clamped across Draco's mouth. They finally parted, both breathing heavily, unready to leave the sanctity of the afterglow. Draco winced as their skin stuck together from the sweat that now slicked them both. Harry lay back on the desk, his chest heaving, as he attempted to sit up on his elbows.

Draco looked around the room for something to wipe himself off with and coming up with nothing, decided he would have to summon up the energy to use his wand. Harry watched all this with a mildly amused expression before pulling his wand out of his desk and casting the requisite spells himself.

Draco sighed in relief, the sticky feeling after sex often made him uncomfortable. The ever pristine blond set about pulling his clothes back on. Harry loved watching Draco's after-sex-getting-dressed routine. The blond had so many sexy quirks when it came to pulling his clothes on. Actually he just had sexy quirks at whatever he was doing.

"I love you, you know," Harry said out of the blue as he stood up off the desk and began to re-garment himself.

Draco turned and smiled at the dark-haired man. He crossed the few steps that separated them and gave Harry a deep kiss. Their lips parted after a few moment, but Draco stayed wound around his slightly taller lover.

Draco nuzzled Harry's neck. "That's a good thing, seeing as I'm rather jealous with the things I love."

"Yes, rather," Harry snorted, thinking back to a few incidents in the past. "Are you satisfied with your revenge?"

"Oh, much." Draco reached up and straightened Harry's tie.

"Now that you've nearly ruined my career," Harry added.

"You know it was worth it."

Harry looked up at the ceiling. "Well . . ."

"Why, you!" Draco shouted before tackling his lover for another round.


End file.
